your knight.

Fine. Follow the eastern corridor - that one - and take the second left. It will lead you out into the gardens, and from there you will be able to return to the barracks. Do not let me find you here again, or there will be consequences.

-is that your hand upon my sleeve, oh squire? Am I understanding this correctly? You dare to try to stop me from leaving?

Well. I certainly cannot fault your boldness. Rather like a rabbit facing down the hounds. I can respect that, however ill-advised it may be.

Very well. Since your knight has not bothered to show you around, let us introduce you to a few other places around the palace - quiet ones. Follow, squire.

This little alcove was, I can only assume, designed specifically for this purpose - a hideaway for those engaged in illicit purposes. Presumably not murder, though personally I find them rather a design flaw in a building designed to be defensible. If ever you and your master end up on patrol in this area, be aware of this bolthole - oh, are you blushing? Hah. Delightful. No. I meant, be aware that there is not an assassin hidden away here.

Allow me to demonstrate the most interesting feature of this particular alcove. Face the wall, hands against the stone. You see how this wall is shaped? Follow it with your eyes. A magnificent specimen of a vaulted ceiling, isn’t it? The acoustics here are quite impressive - with your face pressed against the wall like that, the sound will be channelled straight upwards into the vaults and out into the corridor behind us. So you see, my little rabbit, you will need to be very, very quiet. Unless, of course, you would like to announce to the world exactly what I’m doing to you. Do take care. Even the way you’re breathing right now will probably be audible.

How delightfully you tremble. I’m barely even touching you, and yet. A single finger along your spine, like this, and - ah, ah. Remember, quiet. Keep your hands on the wall.

I’m pleased to see that you are at least wearing your clothing correctly. You’d be surprised at how frequently that needs correcting with the greener recruits. If we just undo your belt, slip down your breeches…

Ah. Beautiful.

Remember. Quiet. Do I need to put something in your mouth? - yes? Dear me, the whole palace probably heard that. In a moment your knight will be charging along to demand to know who’s defiling his charge.

Ah, that made you twitch. How delightful. Now. Take my fingers into your mouth, and suck while I explore this delightful little hole. Perhaps giving you something to occupy yourself with will allow you to be better behaved.

One finger. Surprisingly tight, aren’t you? I would say not to worry, that we can take it slow - but that rather depends on you, does it not? Whether or not you bring down the entire palace around our ears with those noises you’re making. Yes, that’s better. Look at you trying so very, very hard for me. Are you this good for your knight? Does their praise make you drip like this, too?

Two fingers. That’s right, relax for me. Arch your back more; I want to see your face while you drool around the fingers in your mouth. Good little rabbit. You look so very, very wrecked, and it suits you so very well.

Three fingers. That one slipped in so easily that I almost think you’re ready for something bigger - now, now, what did I say about being loud? Calm yourself. I have no intention of sullying myself in this little hole. Not this time, at least. You will have my fingers and be grateful.

You’re getting louder, little rabbit. I wonder how many guard patrols are in the area. I wonder what will happen when they hear you. Perhaps they will come to watch. Or perhaps they will come to join in. Would you like that? Or would you rather I keep you and this hungry, twitchy little hole all to myself?

-oh, they definitely heard that.

Shhh. Stay leaning against the wall. I’ll hold you up while you recover. Look at the mess you’ve made of your clothing; such an undisciplined squire. You’ll be able to feel it in your breeches all the way back to your barracks, won’t you? There; breeches up, belt fastened. It’s as if nothing ever happened. Or it would be, if your face didn’t give you away.

I shall walk you out to the gardens. The rest of the journey is yours to make alone, little rabbit.